I am a librarian at the Corpus Christi Public Library and I do my job very well. Usually I ignore the younger girls who volunteer, because all they ever talk about are how cute some of the men that come in are. But there was only one man that had ever piqued my interest. Connor Davidson. The first time I saw him I barely had a glimpse of him. All that I saw was a glimpse of his profile, his midnight black hair and a broad back as he walked out the door. It was enough for me to know that I wanted to see more. The next time he came in I was speechless. He was so handsome it was all I could do not to stare.
That day I happened to be stacking books in the fiction section when he brushed past me. It was as if my whole body filled with this electric current as his arm brushed against mine. It was impossible not to take notice of him. He wasnât gorgeous and none of the other girls drooled over him like they did over some of the other male patrons. But he was handsome in a way that put all those other men to shame. He had this incredibly thick black hair that was always tousled and falling into his crystal blue eyes, as if he was always running his fingers through it. There were little flecks of gray sprinkled through it, giving credence to the fact that he was quite a bit older than I. He had sharp, angular features that were defined by the little lines by his mouth and under his eyes. But when he smiled those lines disappeared and he seemed infinitely younger than I guessed him to be. I had never in my life been attracted to an older man, but oh, how I wanted Connor.
The next week he came back in returning a couple of mystery books that were long overdue. I shoved Sherry out of the way, just like I did every time Connor came to the counter, so that I could be the one to talk to him, even if it was just to assist him in paying his late fees or check out books.
âHi, how are you today?â I asked him, trying to keep my voice from squeaking. I could feel a blush starting to stain my cheeks as he stared at me. It was unnerving, because for what seemed like minutes, but was probably only seconds, he just stared at me. It was as if he was reading me somehow.
âFine,â he finally answered abruptly, dragging his gaze from mine. âHow much do I owe?â
Flustered, I looked down at the computer and quickly scanned the library card that he placed on the counter. I scanned the books and told him the total. He pulled out the money and as I went to take it from him, our hands brushed lightly. I grabbed the money and was about to snatch back my hand when he grabbed my wrist. I could feel his touch course through me. I started shaking and couldnât hide the fact that I was so attracted to him. I looked away but his other hand came up and caught my chin, forcing me to look at him. Thank god there was no one else in line, otherwise people would have been staring. As it was, all the other librarians were just standing there watching this little scene unfold, their mouths gaping slightly.
âIâve seen you watching me,â he whispered, his voice deep and rough, just like him.
I shook my head no, tried to tell him that he was mistaken, but the words wouldnât come out. My lips refused to utter the lie.
âYes,â he said. âIâve seen you. That day that I brushed against you, you stiffened so fast I could tell the effect that my touch had. You were fair trembling with desire. It was a beautiful sight to behold. Iâve never seen such an innocent touch have such an affect. I want you to have dinner with me. Tonight. Iâll meet you here,â he said, slipping a small business card across the counter. âEight oâclock. Donât be late, Marian.â
I looked at him with startled eyes. How did he know my name? He let go of my wrist, and I rubbed it, still feeling the lingering throb that his touch had caused. He laughed lightly at the gesture before walking out the door.
It took me a moment to compose myself I was shaking so hard. When I turned around, I had the business card clutched in my hand. Sherry and Jan were just staring at me. I was about to go in back when they came out of the shocked states and huddled around me.
âDid you see the way he grabbed her wrist and chin?â Sherry twittered nervously. âI thought he was going to hurt her?â
âWhere does he want to meet you, Marian?â Jan asked, her voice full of curiousity.
Her question reminded me that I had yet to glance at the card I was clutching so tightly in my fist. I looked at it. It was a business card for a small Italian restaurant on South Padre Island.
âLordy, child,â Jan said in her motherly way, âI thought you two were going to spontaneously combust you were creating so much heat.â She fanned herself dramatically to prove her point.
âI donât know what just happened. Iâm kind of dazed.â
âWell no wonder. You were shaking like a leaf. The second he grabbed your wrist you started trembling,â Sherry said.
âSo are you going to meet him?â Jan pressed.
I didnât know what to say. How had he known my name? Was I going to go? How would I face him again if I didnât? I didnât know what to do. It was Jan who helped me make up my mind.
âHoney, you need to go. He asked about you a couple of days ago on your day off. I watched you watching him every time he came in, so I told him your name. And obviously he saw you too, otherwise he wouldnât have asked. You shouldnât deny yourself something you know you want. Forget the age difference. Heâs probably only about fifty at most.â
âForty-four,â I whispered softly. âI took a peek at his birthday on the computer.â
âSee. Thereâs only an eighteen year difference between you.â I looked at her like she was crazy and she seemed to realize that it was a pretty big age gap. âOkay, so it is a big difference. But who cares. Youâre attracted to him right?â
I nodded affirmatively.
âThen go out with him. Itâs been ages since youâve dated. Whatâs the worst thing that could happen?â
I couldnât think of anything right then. Little did I know I was about to find out tonight.
When I got off of work at five oâclock, I raced home, desperate to take a bath and get ready for my date. When I walked in the door my mother was sitting at the kitchen table perusing the newspaper. âYouâre home early,â she said. I usually didnât get home until around seven.
âJan sent me home early. I have a date.â
I could see the shock on her face. It was plain as day. I havenât had a date in over six months so this was kind of out of the blue for her.
âWith who?â she managed to ask.
âHis name is Connor. I met him at the library.â
âConnor, huh? Iâm dating someone by that name.â
I knew this already, though. We share everything. Even though she is my mother, she is more like my big sister. She had me at a very young age. She was seventeen when she became pregnant. My father left and she raised me herself. Thinking about it, I realized that she was the same age as Connor. What a coincidence. I should have thought more of it than I did, but how could I have known what lay in store for me later.
I got ready leisurely, enjoying a nice long bubble bath. I shaved my legs and used strawberry smelling shampoo and conditioner. When I got out of the tub, I wrapped myself in my warm terrycloth robe and went to my room to do my hair. I hate my hair. Itâs really curly and it hangs down to the middle of my back. I wish it were blond, like my momâs. She has this incredible long, thick, straight golden blond hair that shimmers in the sunlight. My mousy brown curls make me seem soâŠdrab. Determined to look anything but drab, I pulled the errant curls back from my face and up into a loose chignon leaving just a few curls tumbling around my face and nape.
I wore my best dress, which isnât saying much. It was a plain white sheath with spaghetti straps. It doesnât sound like much, but it clings to every curve of my body. I usually donât like to wear it, because it emphasizes the fact that Iâm not stacked, but I figured Connor wouldnât notice. I pulled on the small bolero jacket that went over the top and a pair of white sandals.
Kissing my mother goodnight, I walked out the door. It doesnât take long to get from Corpus Christi to South Padre Island. I was there a good fifteen minutes before eight, but Connor still somehow managed to be there waiting.
I walked through the door of the restaurant, glancing around in search of him. The hostess inquired if I was meeting someone and I said yes. I was about to say that he must not be here yet, when I spotted him sitting at the bar.
He was wearing a charcoal gray suit with a white dress shirt underneath. His hair was slicked back, something different for him, and he stood, tall and erect and came to greet me. He lifted my hand to his mouth and gently touched it with his lips.
The small touch took my breath away. I gasped slightly and his eyes shot up to meet mine. It was as if no one else in the world existed. In all my twenty-six years Iâd never felt that kind of instant connection to anyone.
âShall we sit?â he asked softly, placing my hand in the crook of his arm.
âPlease,â I answered politely.
The hostess led us to our table and Connor pulled out my chair for me. He was such a gentleman. It was a nice change from the boys that I usually dated. They wouldnât know what the word meant.
He ordered a nice Merlot when the waitress came. She lit a small candle in the center of the table before going to fetch our wine. For several minutes we just sat there, gazing at each other over the candle. It was one of the most erotic moments I ever experienced, just sitting there, not saying a word, looking into his soul. I was shaken when the connection was severed by the reappearance of the waitress.
She poured the wine and took our orders after we perused the menu for a moment. We found that we shared similar tastes in food as we both ordered a small Caesar salad and a plate of fettuccini alfredo with blackened chicken.
As we waited for our food, Connor took my hand in his. Every touch was like a spark that sent an inferno of desire blazing through me. It was as if he knew this and he stoked the inferno by rubbing his thumb over my wrist, feeling my pulse increase under his soft caresses. I knew in that instant, when I looked into his eyes, that I was going to be his. I was certain of it. He was preparing me for what lay ahead.
When the food arrived we ate and talked about our lives. I had more in common with him, than I ever expected to. We liked the same books and authors. We enjoyed staying home in front of a warm fire. Neither of us liked being around a lot of people, preferring to have a few close friends. We enjoyed the same music and both had a huge appreciation for art and theatre. I was in awe of some of the places he traveled to, places that I have wanted to go my whole life. When he promised that he would take me anyplace I wished to go, butterflies began to dance in my stomach. This was moving so fast. I couldnât be falling in love with him. But I felt like it. I wanted to spend every second in his company. I wanted to be cherished by him for the rest of my life. I wanted more than anything to wake up each morning with him by my side. And I think he saw that in my eyes.
Right after the waitress cleared our dishes, he leaned forward and caressed my cheek softly, cupping it in his palm. I closed my eyes, savoring the feel when he said, âI feel the same way, Marian.â